


Choir Practice With the DJD

by buttered_butter, FrostyFallon, JewelDragon, nyausgris



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It's the DJD they're gonna murder, Made to play the piano badly and die, RIP To Electroharp one of the best OC's we've ever met
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 07:16:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21193739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttered_butter/pseuds/buttered_butter, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyFallon/pseuds/FrostyFallon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JewelDragon/pseuds/JewelDragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyausgris/pseuds/nyausgris
Summary: The DJD is a quintet. A murderous quintet. Poor Electroharp wishes he hadn't defected.(crack-fic. not to be taken seriously.)





	Choir Practice With the DJD

**Author's Note:**

> Verily, our good friend does not have an account on AO3, but we have to credit her for contribution to this magnificent piece of fiction we created together. 
> 
> This fic was a result of taking out a document, and each of us writing a single sentence until we've finished up the fic.  
We assigned each other an order and maintained it until we thought the fic complete. You all should try it sometime. We laughed a lot. A whole lot.

Vos was late for quintet practice. Sadly, there was little time left, since the music was already starting. Everyone else would surely notice how late he was. The piano player would perish at any moment. Vos burst in through the front door with a crash, and caused the music to abruptly stop on a sour, sour note. The captive Decepticon piano player (and soon to be dead pianist) looked on the verge of tears.

“Please.” The Soon-To-Be-Dead pianist whispered. “I’ve only had three lessons!” 

"Vos, wonderful of you to finally show up." Tarn, aka That Bitch, judged, and he judged judgingly from his place on the risers. He stepped down, gracefully, full of himself and leered at the soon-to-be-dead pianist.”Who told you to stop the tunes?”

Helex shifted nervously on the highest riser, which creaked ominously. Vos glanced quizzically up at Helex on the top riser, and as if on cue the whole thing collapsed. 

Vos chose to ignore this (its a regular occurrence at this point) and instead spat back a garbled bunch of nonsense at Tarn and hoped the idiot would translate it to “sorry I’m late” or some other excuse.

“We just got this pianist, Vos,” Tarn admonished, ”and you are wasting their precious life with your excuses (we only have them for four more hours).” Tarn motioned to the About-To-Be-Dead pianist in question, who looked Very Terrified right about now.

“I don’t care if he doesn’t have a mother,” Tesarus muttered as Vos took his place, “you still shouldn’t say things like that about her forehead.” 

"Oh, is that what he said? I thought it was something about horses," said Kaon, who had Google Translate open on his phone. 

Tesarus just grunted in a “maybe it did maybe it didn’t” manner.

“Anyways, BACK TO YOUR SPOTS, we have one pianist to serve justice to in four hours.” Tarn announced, adding on a quiet “Maybe sooner, if he doesn’t perform well.” Before returning to his spot.

“Lesson one was more of a meet and greet than a lesson!” the pianist wailed. He immediately sat up properly and fixed his face upon finding all of the main member's burning glares on him. Holding back tears, he turned back stiffly to stare at the tear-stained sheet music.

The leader of the DJD turned to his partners in quintet crimes, “Now, let us continue from the top-- was it the fourth or sixth measure?” 

A rustling sound comes from one of the middle bleachers, “Hold on! I dropped my sheet music.”

“I forgot to warm up,” Vos said conversationally to Tesarus, helping him fish his music from the wreckage.

Tesarus raised an eyebrow at Vos, clearly expecting the other to be a little more concerned for his life and a little less bilingual.

Tarn cleared his non-existent throat and motioned for the Near-Expiration-Date-Pianist to start up the jazzy tunes. The Best-By-This-Date pianist nodded, and started to play the pick-up notes. Everything carried on wonderfully for a few measures, until the About-To-Be-Not-Alive Pianist played a couple sour notes. 

“You’re lucky you’re the last surviving member of the conservatory,” Tarn snapped. The Not-Quite-Past-His-Prime-But-Getting-Close pianist flinched away in terror, frantically going back one measure to fix his wrong notes. As fast as he could, the Very-Soon-To-Be-Dead-Like-Maybe-In-The-Next-Hour-Or-So pianist whose real name was actually Electroharp, a renowned harpist, restarted the tunes at a slower tempo.

“And now,” Tarn growled for the last time, as he prepared to kill this bot the instant a note turned sour, “we sing, my fellow artists.” One by one, each member of the DJD started to sing, terrifying the poor About-To-Receive-His-Disney-FastPass™-To-Death Electroharp even more.

“I’m still pretty sure this was a riser factory,” Kaon complained, gesturing to Google Maps as the music crashed to a halt once more. Vos subtly nudged Kaon, reminding him to stay in time and come in at the right time. This was however, not Kaon’s first hobbled together quintet on the random whims of Tarn (and it wouldn’t be his last); he didn’t expect this to last longer than the Shitty-Pianist-Who-Is-About-To-Die’s lifespan.

The D-flat was the final rust stick at the bottom of the metaphorical hoard of rust stick goody boxes.

”Such a shame,” Tarn murmured as the music came to a stop, “You even got a few more measures in than the last person.” 

“Um, Tarn,” Helex spoke up from the wreckage of the risers, “Do I have time to grab another one of these platform things from the stack in back?”

Tarn huffed an infinitely About-To-Lose-The-Last-Shred-Of-Sanity-He-Didn't-Know-He-Had sounding sigh, and whipped around to face Helex.

“Don’t bother, we’re finished with practice for the day.”

“D-does this mean I get to go home now,” the poor, unsuspecting Electroharp said, “Can I go now, please?”

Tarn laughed, in a condescending sort of way, “You think we’re going to let you go?”

“Yes?” Electroharp said nervously.

There is exactly one dotted half rest of silence before the entire DJD burst into raucous laughter, startling Electroharp into laughing as well, although he's mainly laughing out of utter fear. The poor mech barely lasted 30 minuets. (can we get an f in the chat Gaymers) 

“Oh you sad pianist,” Tarn walked up to Electroharp, ”no piano soloist ever leaves our concerts alive.”

[FADE TO BLACK]

[INSERT SAD PIANO MUSIC]


End file.
